


Pull Me Out of the Water

by downlookingup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked, F/M, Ficlet, I guess this is kind of set mid-19th Century, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downlookingup/pseuds/downlookingup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime & Brienne Appreciation Week, Day 5: One AU</p><p>When the ship carrying Miss Brienne Tarth and Lieutenant Jaime Lannister sinks in the middle of the ocean, they must band together to survive on a deserted island.</p><p>Title from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2pSFd-K4uU">"Swimming" by Florence + The Machine</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull Me Out of the Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikkiM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/gifts).



> She asked me for a shipwrecked AU ages ago, but I don't think this is what she had in mind. Them's the breaks. Thanks for the beta and the support and the laughs, Mikki. You keep me on the straight and narrow.

_Stupid stubborn bitch_. They’d both been doing the same thing for the past three days: he sitting in the same bloody spot wondering if Cersei would be crying for him or cursing him for dying, and the girl wasting perfectly good wood on a signal fire that would go unseen. It was madness. He'd said it enough times already, but he couldn't help saying it again. "No one's coming for us, wench."

She leapt to her feet and towered over him, full of rage and obstinacy, her face twisted in a savage scowl that only made her uglier. Her skin flushed angry red and it had the effect of making her heavy brown freckles stand out like splatters of mud. "Not wench. Brienne," she growled. "My name is Brienne. Call me by my name or do not call me anything at all."

Jaime put on his best placating smile, the one he'd used so often—but without much success—during his court martial. "Brienne. _Miss Tarth_." Her shoulders slumped at the sound of her proper name and she dropped down to the sand again, this time further away from him. Her straw-blonde hair had come undone from its braid and fell in frayed tangles over her shoulders. She had looked like a man the first time he'd seen her on the ship, but now she resembled a wild creature. "We should save that wood for when it gets cold."

"We won't be here when it gets cold," she mumbled, her voice almost carried away by the breeze.

"No, perhaps not," Jaime mused. "Most likely we'll be dead by then, of thirst or sunstroke." She pressed her broad lips together with the effort of keeping silent. It was a cruel thing to do, he knew, but the girl had to know the truth. "Maybe you'll get stung by a poisonous sea urchin or eaten by sharks. Or a mosquito will bite you and you'll die of malaria."

For a long time, there was only the sound of the wood crackling in the fire and the waves crashing against the shore and the birds singing in the trees further inland. If they weren’t on the verge of death, it would be almost pleasant. When he was a boy, he'd thought that joining the Royal Navy meant seeing places like this one, beautiful and exotic, as far away from the Rock and Father as possible. _I found out the truth soon enough, didn’t I? First Aerys, and now this Stark mess._

Brienne glared at him fiercely. The glow of the setting sun reflected in her blue eyes made them look like a pair of glittering sapphires. _Pretty eyes_ , he thought. _And calm_. He supposed he should count himself lucky that he hadn't been trapped with a weeping, hysterical girl.

The wench's voice shook him out of his thoughts. "Are you just going to give up? Are you so craven?"

 _Craven?_ The word made his stomach roil. He'd been called many things, murderer and traitor and worse besides, but never craven. "Unless you know how to build a fucking ship, I don't know what else you expect us to do."

"Live," she said. "There's always hope."

Jaime opened his mouth to argue but Brienne had already turned away. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees and stared at the water, her ugly face set in that stubborn grimace he was quickly coming to know.

 _Hope_. His store of the stuff had been whittled down to almost nothing during those long months in his dark cell, between the beatings and the rotting food and the sounds of the firing squad every morning. He was free, though. There was sunlight on his face and wind in his hair and fruit on the trees.

He stood up, tossed another log into the fire and sat down closer to Brienne. She glanced curiously at him before going back to her task of watching the horizon for sails. Jaime watched the right side and she watched the left. Maybe everything wasn't lost after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [Photoset](http://asharastarfall.tumblr.com/post/99015587148/jaime-brienne-appreciation-week-day-5-one-au).


End file.
